John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

And gathered up the shipwrecks of your fate;

  I, like a friend, did even yourself withstand,

  From throwing all upon a losing hand.

  Abdal. My love makes all your acts unquestioned go,

  And sets a sovereign stamp on all you do.

  Your love I will believe with hood-winked eyes; —

  In faith, much merit in much blindness lies.

  But now, to make you great as you are fair,

  The Spaniards an imperial crown prepare.

  Lyndar. That gift’s more welcome, which with you I share.

  Let us no time in fruitless courtship lose,

  But sally out upon our frighted foes.

  No ornaments of power so please my eyes,

  As purple, which the blood of princes dies. [Exeunt.

  SCENE III. — The Alhambra.

  Boabdelin, Abenamar, Almahide, and Guards, &c. The Queen wearing a scarf.

  Aben. My little journey has successful been,

  The fierce Almanzor will obey the queen.

  I found him, like Achilles on the shore,

  Pensive, complaining much, but threatening more;

  And, like that injured Greek, he heard our woes,

  Which, while I told, a gloomy smile arose

  From his bent brows: And still, the more he heard,

  A more severe and sullen joy appeared.

  But, when he knew we to despair were driven,

  Betwixt his teeth he muttered thanks to heaven.

  Boab. How I disdain this aid! which I must take,

  Not for my own, but Almahide’s sake.

  Aben. But when he heard it was the queen who sent,

  That her command repealed his banishment,

  He took the summons with a greedy joy,

  And asked me how she would his sword employ:

  Then bid me say, her humblest slave would come,

  From her fair mouth with joy to take his doom.

  Boab. Oh that I had not sent you! though it cost

  My crown! though I, and it, and all were lost!

  Aben. While I, to bring this news, came on before,

  I met with Selin —

  Boab. I can hear no more.

  Enter Hamet.

  Hamet. Almanzor is already at the gate,

  And throngs of people on his entrance wait.

  Boab. Thy news does all my faculties surprise;

  He bears two basilisks in those fierce eyes;

  And that tame dæmon, which should guard my throne,

  Shrinks at a genius greater than his own. [Exit Boab. with Aben. and Guards.

  Enter Almanzor; seeing Almahide approach him, he speaks.

  Almanz. So Venus moves, when to the Thunderer,

  In smiles or tears, she would some suit prefer;

  When with her cestus girt,

  And drawn by doves, she cuts the liquid skies,

  And kindles gentle fires where’er she flies:

  To every eye a goddess is confest,

  By all the heavenly nation she is blest,

  And each with secret joy admits her to his breast. —

  Madam your new commands I come to know,

  If yet you can have any where I go. [To her bowing.

  If to the regions of the dead they be,

  You take the speediest course to send by me.

  Almah. Heaven has not destined you so soon to rest:

  Heroes must live to succour the distrest.

  Almanz. To serve such beauty all mankind should live;

  And, in our service, our reward you give.

  But stay me not in torture, to behold

  And ne’er enjoy. As from another’s gold

  The miser hastens, in his own defence,

  And shuns the sight of tempting excellence;

  So, having seen you once so killing fair,

  A second sight were but to move despair.

  I take my eyes from what too much would please,

  As men in fevers famish their disease.

  Almah. No; you may find your cure an easier way,

  If you are pleased to seek it, — in your stay.

  All objects lose by too familiar view,

  When that great charm is gone, of being new;

  By often seeing me, you soon will find

  Defects so many, in my face and mind,

  That to be freed from love you need not doubt;

  And, as you looked it in, you’ll look it out.

  Almanz. I rather, like weak armies, should retreat,

  And so prevent my more entire defeat.

  For your own sake in quiet let me go;

  Press not too far on a despairing foe:

  I may turn back, and armed against you move,

  With all the furious train of hopeless love.

  Almah. Your honour cannot to ill thoughts give way,

  And mine can run no hazard by your stay.

  Almanz. Do you then think I can with patience see

  That sovereign good possessed, and not by me?

  No; I all day shall languish at the sight,

  And rave on what I do not see all night;

  My quick imagination will present

  The scenes and images of your content.

  Almah. These are the day-dreams which wild fancy yields,

  Empty as shadows are, that fly o’er fields.

  Oh, whither would this boundless fancy move!

  ’Tis but the raging calenture of love.

  Like a distracted passenger you stand,

  And see, in seas, imaginary land,

  Cool groves, and flowery meads; and while you think

  To walk, plunge in, and wonder that you sink.

  Almanz. Love’s calenture too well I understand;

  But sure your beauty is no fairy-land!

  Of your own form a judge you cannot be;

  For, glow-worm like, you shine, and do not see.

  Almah. Can you think this, and would you go away?

  Almanz. What recompence attends me, if I stay?

  Almah. You know I am from recompence debarred,

  But I will grant your merit a reward;

  Your flame’s too noble to deserve a cheat,

  And I too plain to practise a deceit.

  I no return of love can ever make,

  But what I ask is for my husband’s sake;

  He, I confess, has been ungrateful too,

  But he and I are ruined if you go:

  Your virtue to the hardest proof I bring; —

  Unbribed, preserve a mistress and a king.

  Almanz. I’ll stop at nothing that appears so brave:

  I’ll do’t, and now I no reward will have.

  You’ve given my honour such an ample field,

  That I may die, but that shall never yield.

  Spite of myself I’ll stay, fight, love, despair;

  And I can do all this, because I dare.

  Yet I may own one suit —

  That scarf, which, since by you it has been borne,

  Is blessed, like relicks which by saints were worn.

  Almah. Presents like this my virtue durst not make,

  But that ’tis given you for my husband’s sake. [Gives the scarf.

  Almanz. This scarf to honourable rags I’ll wear,

  As conquering soldiers tattered ensigns bear;

  But oh, how much my fortune I despise,

  Which gives me conquest, while she love denies! [Exeunt.

  ACT III.

  SCENE I. — The Alhambra.

  Enter Almahide and Esperanza.

  Esper. Affected modesty has much of pride;

  That scarf he begged, you could not have denied;

  Nor does it shock the virtue of a wife,

  When given that man, to whom you owe your life.

  Almah. Heaven knows, from all intent of ill ’twas free,

  Yet it may feed my husband’s jealousy;

  And for that cause I wish it were not done.

  To them Boabdelin
, and walks apart.

  See, where he comes, all pensive and alone;

  A gloomy fury has o’erspread his face:

  ’Tis so! and all my fears are come to pass.

  Boab. Marriage, thou curse of love, and snare of life, [Aside

  That first debased a mistress to a wife!

  Love, like a scene, at distance should appear,

  But marriage views the gross-daubed landscape near.

  Love’s nauseous cure! thou cloyest whom thou should’st please;

  And, when thou cur’st, then thou art the disease.

  When hearts are loose, thy chain our bodies ties;

  Love couples friends, but marriage enemies.

  If love like mine continues after thee,

  ’Tis soon made sour, and turned by jealousy;

  No sign of love in jealous men remains,

  But that which sick men have of life — their pains.

  Almah. Has my dear lord some new affliction had? [Walking to him.

  Have I done any thing that makes him sad?

  Boab. You! nothing: You! But let me walk alone.

  Almah. I will not leave you till the cause be known:

  My knowledge of the ill may bring relief.

  Boab. Thank ye; you never fail to cure my grief!

  Trouble me not, my grief concerns not you.

  Almah. While I have life, I will your steps pursue.

  Boab. I’m out of humour now; you must not stay.

  Almah. I fear it is that scarf I gave away.

  Boab. No, ’tis not that; but speak of it no more:

  Go hence! I am not what I was before.

  Almah. Then I will make you so; give me your hand!

  Can you this pressing and these tears withstand?

  Boab. Oh heaven, were she but mine, or mine alone! [Sighing, and going off from her.

  Ah, why are not the hearts of women known!

  False women to new joys unseen can move;

  There are no prints left in the paths of love,

  All goods besides by public marks are known;

  But what we most desire to keep, has none.

  Almah. Why will you in your breast your passion crowd, [Approaching him.

  Like unborn thunder rolling in a cloud?

  Torment not your poor heart, but set it free,

  And rather let its fury break on me.

  I am not married to a god; I know,

  Men must have passions, and can bear from you.

  I fear the unlucky present I have made!

  Boab. O power of guilt! how conscience can upbraid!

  It forces her not only to reveal,

  But to repeat what she would most conceal!

  Almah. Can such a toy, and given in public too —

  Boab. False woman, you contrived it should be so.

  That public gift in private was designed

  The emblem of the love you meant to bind.

  Hence from my sight, ungrateful as thou art!

  And, when I can, I’ll banish thee my heart. [She weeps.

  To them Almanzor wearing the Scarf. He sees her weep.

  Almanz. What precious drops are those,

  Which silently each other’s track pursue,

  Bright as young diamonds in their infant dew?

  Your lustre you should free from tears maintain,

  Like Egypt, rich without the help of rain.

  Now cursed be he who gave this cause of grief;

  And double cursed, who does not give relief!

  Almah. Our common fears, and public miseries,

  Have drawn these tears from my afflicted eyes.

  Almanz. Madam, I cannot easily believe

  It is for any public cause you grieve.

  On your fair face the marks of sorrow lie;

  But I read fury in your husband’s eye:

  And, in that passion, I too plainly find

  That you’re unhappy, and that he’s unkind.

  Almah. Not new-made mothers greater love express

  Than he, when with first looks their babes they bless;

  Not Heaven is more to dying martyrs kind,

  Nor guardian angels to their charge assigned.

  Boab. O goodness counterfeited to the life!

  O the well-acted virtue of a wife!

  Would you with this my just suspicions blind?

  You’ve given me great occasion to be kind!

  The marks, too, of your spotless love appear;

  Witness the badge of my dishonour there. [Pointing to Almanzor’s scarf.

  Almanz. Unworthy owner of a gem so rare!

  Heavens! why must he possess, and I despair?

  Why is this miser doomed to all this store;

  He, who has all, and yet believes he’s poor?

  Almah. [to Almanz.]

  You’re much too bold, to blame a jealousy

  So kind in him, and so desired by me.

  The faith of wives would unrewarded prove,

  Without those just observers of our love.

  The greater care the higher passion shows;

  We hold that clearest we most fear to lose.

  Distrust in lovers is too warm a sun,

  But yet ’tis night in love when that is gone;

  And in those climes which most his scorching know,

  He makes the noblest fruits and metals grow.

  Almanz. Yes; there are mines of treasure in your breast,

  Seen by that jealous sun, but not possest.

  He, like a devil, among the blest above,

  Can take no pleasure in your heaven of love.

  Go, take her; and thy causeless fears remove; [To the King.

  Love her so well, that I with rage may die:

  Dull husbands have no right to jealousy:

  If that’s allowed, it must in lovers be.

  Boab. The succour, which thou bring’st me, makes thee bold:

  But know, without thy aid, my crown I’ll hold;

  Or, if I cannot, I will fire the place,

  Of a full city make a naked space.

  Hence, then, and from a rival set me free!

  I’ll do, I’ll suffer any thing but thee.

  Almanz. I wonnot go; I’ll not be forced away:

  I came not for thy sake; nor do I stay.

  It was the queen who for my aid did send;

  And ’tis I only can the queen defend:

  I, for her sake, thy sceptre will maintain;

  And thou, by me, in spite of thee, shalt reign.

  Boab. Had I but hope I could defend this place

  Three days, thou should’st not live to my disgrace

  So small a time;

  Might I possess my Almahide alone,

  I would live ages out ere they were gone.

  I should not be of love or life bereft;

  All should be spent before, and nothing left.

  Almah. [to Boab.]

  As for your sake I for Almanzor sent,

  So, when you please, he goes to banishment.

  You shall, at last, my loyalty approve:

  I will refuse no trial of my love.

  Boab. How can I think you love me, while I see

  That trophy of a rival’s victory?

  I’ll tear it from his side.

  Almanz. I’ll hold it fast

  As life, and when life’s gone, I’ll hold this last;

  And if thou tak’st it after I am slain,

  I’ll send my ghost to fetch it back again.

  Almah. When I bestowed that scarf, I had not thought,

  Or not considered it might be a fault;

  But, since my lord’s displeased that I should make

  So small a present, I command it back.

  Without delay the unlucky gift restore;

  Or, from this minute, never see me more.

  Almanz. The shock of such a curse I dare not stand: [Pulling it off hastily, and presenting it to her.

  Thus I obey your absolute command. [She gives it to t
he King.

  Must he the spoils of scorn’d Almanzor wear? —

  May Turnus’ fate be thine, who dared to bear

  The belt of murdered Pallas! from afar

  Mayest thou be known, and be the mark of war!

  Live, just to see it from thy shoulders torn

  By common hands, and by some coward worn. [An alarm within.

  Enter Abdelmelech, Zulema, Hamet, Abenamar; their swords drawn.

  Abdelm. Is this a time for discord or for grief?

  We perish, sir, without your quick relief.

  I have been fooled, and am unfortunate;

  The foes pursue their fortune and our fate.

  Zul. The rebels with the Spaniards are agreed.

  Boab. Take breath; my guards shall to the fight succeed.

  Aben. [to Almanzor.]

  Why stay you, sir? the conquering foe is near:

  Give us their courage, and give them our fear.

  Hamet. Take arms, or we must perish in your sight.

  Almanz. I care not: perish: for I will not fight,

  I wonnot lift an arm in his defence:

  And yet I wonnot stir one foot from hence.

  I to your king’s defence his town resign;

  This only spot, whereon I stand, is mine. —

  Madam, be safe, and lay aside your fear, [To the Queen

  You are as in a magic circle here.

  Boab. To our own valour our success we’ll owe.

  Haste, Hamet, with Abenamar to go;

  You two draw up, with all the speed you may,

  Our last reserves, and yet redeem the day. [Exeunt Hamet and Abenamar one way, the King the other, with Abdelmelech, &c. Alarm within.

  Enter Abdelmelech, his sword drawn.

  Abdelm. Granada is no more! the unhappy king

  Venturing too far, ere we could succour bring,

  Was by the duke of Arcos prisoner made,

  And, past relief, is to the fort conveyed.

  Almanz. Heaven, thou art just! go, now despise my aid.

  Almah. Unkind Almanzor, how am I betrayed!

  Betrayed by him in whom I trusted most!

  But I will ne’er outlive what I have lost.

  Is this your succour, this your boasted love!

  I will accuse you to the saints above!

  Almanzor vowed he would for honour fight,

  And lets my husband perish in my sight. [Exeunt Almahide and Esperanza.

  Almanz. Oh, I have erred; but fury made me blind;

  And, in her just reproach, my fault I find!

  I promised even for him to fight, whom I —

  But since he’s loved by her, he must not die.

  Thus, happy fortune comes to me in vain,

  When I myself must ruin it again.

  To him Abenamar, Hamet, Abdelmelech, Zulema, Soldiers.

  Aben. The foe has entered the Vermillion towers;